


This Is The Scent Of Dead Skin On A Linoleum Floor

by TylerDunJishwaJoseph



Series: Won't You Say Goodnight (So I Can Say Goodbye) [1]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Depression, Gen, Panic Attack, Self Harm, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TylerDunJishwaJoseph/pseuds/TylerDunJishwaJoseph
Summary: "His body is done.He takes his last breath.His final release.He finally found death."





	

**Author's Note:**

> This may be triggering. Please be safe everyone. If you ever need someone to talk to feel free to message me at tearinmaheart.tumblr.com.
> 
> Title is from Camisido by Panic! At The Disco.

Josh wasn't sure how he ended up here. He never knew. It just happened. The sterile white of the bathroom mixed with the fluorescent lights made his head spin. He hated that dizzy feeling. It wasn't the dizzy feeling he got on stage behind his drums that made him feel good. That's when he felt alive and on fire. No, this was a sick, dizzy feeling he had from the panic that started in the pit of his stomach and rose up through his chest.

He wasn't sure what caused it exactly. It could have been anything really. That was the worst thing about his panic attacks. There seemed to be no cause to his shaking and tight lungs. It could have been the kid looking at him weird or how he stuttered while ordering his coffee a few minutes ago that sent him in to this downward spiral. All he knew now was that he was sitting in a public bathroom and reaching for the thin metal in the back of his phone case. There was no way out of this. 

Just like always, the cold metal found his rough fingertips. It seemed so thin and innocent looking to him. Who could have thought something so tiny could do so much for him. Like clockwork, he folded a piece of toilet paper in to a perfect square, preparing it for its job. His wrist was already marred with white and pink lines from his past. His hips and thighs had much fresher lines and he knew he was out of space there. He hasn't cut on his wrists for over a year, but it was his only option now. 

Without a second thought, he pressed that cold blade to his soft flesh and slowly pulled across. His flesh opened up in to a deep crescent. Blood lingered in the wound for a slow second before it bubbled up and spilled down his arm. It was warm and thick. It stuck to his arm. Metallic in the air and in his nose.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Slice again. Right under the first line. Yellow bubbles of fat exposed before blood covered it.

A puddle of his crimson soul collected on the white linoleum of the bathroom as he made more cuts up the meat of his arm. He pressed his head to the wall of the stall and let the relief overtake him. It was sweet and warm, like an embrace. It sent him reeling, soft sighs, and slowing pulse. His head swam from the thoughts of pain and pleasure.

Another slice. Deeper this time. Blood poured from his arm like the fountain of life. His life. Slowly draining away. He didn't care that he was in a public bathroom. He didn't care that he was wasting away right there, for anyone to find him. He tossed the toilet paper square aside. There was no cleaning up this amount of blood. There was no walking out of this bathroom.

He slowly laid down on the floor and curled in on himself. The blood continued to flow. He laid in a lake of his very life. His eyelids fluttered shut and he could feel his heart pounding slowly.

His voice was barely more than a whisper, "I'm sorry Tyler—."

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, you made it this far. Thanks for reading my depressing rambles. If you have anything you want me to write feel free to message me on my tumblr or comment.


End file.
